al-badlah

Audio with Theyab's pronunciation

































Those have never visited the Middle East may be slightly muu mit'aakdiin as to how people yalbisuun. I know because I used to be one of them. My first riHlaat to Kuwait was a bit of a disaster in some ways. I'd thought it might be doable to translate the carefree East London approach to a business meeting at Kuwait's Ministry of Arts, Culture and Letters. Meaning: wearing skin-tight leggings, miniskirts - and what's the problem since it's 55 degrees outdoors? 

The days of brazenly showing off skin in public are now over in Kuwait, even when temperatures soar. Perhaps it was different in the Swinging Sixties, but the mood in the country these days is more conservative. And like it or hate it, appearance counts for a lot in Kuwait. You may remember a little story on this theme here.

But none of this means that the only means of being socially acceptable is wearing a dishdasha. These days, you see working men and women in biddal as much as more traditional clothing. And when in public, as long as skin exposure is at a minimum, anything goes. This should be taken at face value: it has been noted that in Kuwait, the colour, cut, and texture of women's fashion is distinctly more flamboyant than in any other Gulf state.

The Hybrids exemplify the spirit of the Kuwaiti Baroque pretty well:











مو متأكدين
muu mit'aakdiinUnsure
يلبسون
yalbisuunThey dress
رحلات
riHlaatTrips
بدل
biddalSuits

bukhuur


Audio with Theyab's pronunciation


























bukhuur is the Arabic name given to chips made from agar khashab that have been soaked in fragrant oils and makhluuT with resin, ambergris, musk, sandalwood, etc. No combination of rawaayiH is ever the same, making each perfumed chip unique.

This scented khashab is placed on small blocks of hot coal and immediately give off a thick, perfumed dukhaan. It is used to fragrance rooms, clothes and hair.

The bukhoor is usually burned in a mubkhar, a traditional incense burner. It is customary in many Arab countries to pass bukhuur amongst the guests as a gesture of hospitality.

خشب
khashab Wood
مخلوط
makhluuT Mixed
روايح
rawaayiH Scents
دخان
dukhaan Smoke

yfa6i9




Audio with Theyab's pronunciation




































It is a little known fact that Kuwait was once a hotbed of playwrights, stage performers and masraHiyaat. The tradition continues today, albeit quietly, whereas the golden era of Kuwaiti theatre emerged in the wake of the third Arab-Israeli war and the infamous nafT boom of 1973. Of the plays produced at the time, one was considered tfaTiS by many people across the Arab World: "Bye Bye London" (1981).
Given the country's censorship laws and restrictions on protest in public places, it was through aD-DiHik provoked by wildly satirical performances that a critique of the government or country could be tactfully expressed.

The plot of "Bye Bye London" is as follows: Shareed, a wealthy Kuwaiti businessmen, checks into a fancy London hotel and gets talking to Nahhash, a Saudi camel herder turned global arms dealer. They grumble about their respective wifes ("those thirsty goats") while the hotel manager (and Zionist) Adam plies them with escorts and alcohol to snatch at some of their Riyals and Dinars.

But as time passes, their self-satisfied amusement dissipates.  The Middle Eastern guests know exactly why the women respond to their advances and why the hotel manager is so charming and generous. Glancing at each other uneasily, "the fig leaf of Arab male prowess falls to expose two lonely middle-aged men at a bar." Read Ahmed Dailami's article for more.

And watch an entire performance of "Bye Bye London" here:

مسرحيات
masraHiyaat Plays
تفطص
tfaTiS Hilarious (f)
نفط
nafT Oil
الضحك
aD-DiHik The laughter

yishawig



Audio with Theyab's pronunciation































Muhammar 

aT-Ta:am of the pearl diving life 

  • Ingredients

      kuubayn aish basmatii
    • nuS gafshat za:fraan 
    • gafshitayn maay ward 
    • gafshat hayl maTHuun 
    • gafshat qrinful maTHuun 
    • gafshat darsiin maTHuun
    • rubi: kuub zubdah 
    • nuS kuub shakkar  
    • 1 white fish per person (baked at 140 degrees 30 mins, then 30 mins at 190 degrees, then a couple of minutes under the grill to crisp skin)
    •  

    Method

    • Soak saffron, cardamom, cloves and rosewater.
    • Rinse, soak then drain rice. Add 4 cups of water:
    • Boil until half-cooked (8 mins) then drain.
    • Stir sugar through the hot rice.
    • Heat butter in a pan. Add rice.
    • Sprinkle the rose water and spice mix over it.
    • Cover and cook on very low heat (20-25 mins).
    • Transfer to serving platter. Top with grilled fish.

     الطعم
    aT-Ta:am The flavour
    عيش بسمتي
    :aish basmatii Basmati rice
    زعفران
    za:faraan Saffron
    ماي ورد
    maay ward Rosewater
    هيل
    hayl Cardamom
    قرنفل
    qrinful Cloves
    دارسين darsiin Cinnamon
    زبدة zibdah Butter
    شكر shakkar Sugar
    نص nuS Half
    ربع rubi: Quarter
    كوب kuub One cup
    كوبين kuubayn Two cups
    قفشة gafshah One spoon
    قفشتين gafshitayn Two spoons
    چذبة ابريل
    chidhbat abriil April Fools



    yawman maa



    Audio with Theyab's pronunciation





    Tarek Al Ghoussein, K-Files Series (2013)





























    I dream that fii l-mustaghbal, some of the epic architectural projects promised for Kuwait will be completed for all to enjoy. And that maybe hadhaak al-yawm there will be a new city in the Middle East with a mosque, a synagogue and a church standing shoulder to shoulder.

    Coming back down to earth, the most immediate of my hopes is that fii yawman maa there might eventually be some water in this swimming pool.
























    في المستغبل
    fii l-mustaghbalIn the future
    هذاك اليوم
    hadhaak al-yawmOne day
    بخذلي
    bakhidh-l-iiI will get (lit. I will get to me)
    بليستيشن ٤
    blaystayshin 4Playstation 4

    az-zuwaarah

    Every Thursday, or yawm al-khamiis, a Kuwaiti will either host or attend a zuwaarah. An afternoon will be spent catching up with everyone's news and eating, eating, eating. 

    While I'm far from Kuwait, maa azuur anybody. I will spend my yawm al-khamiis "studying" Kuwaiti Arabic by watching hit Kuwaiti television series "zuwaarat al-khaamiis." Accompanied by a giant box of Kleenex.

    Check out the pilot:




    يوم الخميس
    yawm al-khamiisThursday
      ما ازور
    maa azuurI do not visit



    raayi7


    Audio with Theyab's pronunciation









    Ahmadi, Kuwait



























    How do you say you're going to do something?

    In Kuwaiti Arabic you can express actions that you're about to do using verbs:

    raaH aruuH - I am going

    Add on the preposition li followed by the noun of a place, such as al-maktabah and you've got yourself a sentence. raaH aruuH li l-maktabah.

    Note the slight contraction. In speech, the al gets shortened to a single l sound when placed after a preposition. So instead of saying li al-makabah you say "lil maktabah" which is much easier to pronounce. 

    But who goes that often to the library? You want to be able to say that you're off to the market (suug) or the shops (dukkaan) to pick up a few things. In which case:

    raaH aruuH li s-suug.
    raaH aruuH li d-dukkaan.

    So where did the extra s and d come from? Read about it here.

    To express actions that you're on the cusp of doing, you can also use adjectives as the Kuwaiti guy below does, which you're more likely to hear in conversation.





    رايح
    raayiH I am going (m)
    رايحة 
    raayHah I am going (f)
    لي المكتبة
    li l-maktabah To the library
    كنتاكي
    kintaakii Kentucky Fried Chicken

    al-ma3ra'9


    Audio with Theyab's pronunciation







    "shinu :ind-ich this evening?" he asks me.
    "No plans," I reply.
    "Would you like to go to a ma:raD tonight? I was walking by the street with all the ma:aariD on the way home from work. I saw this incredible sculpture in the window, and I asked the gallerist if could see illi ma:aruuD."
    "But ..." Long pause. Disbelief. "But you don't like ma:aariD," I say, but promptly swallow the rest of my words.
    Why am I ruining a moment I've dreamt of for so long - the day I don't have to drag him to a ma:raD, but end up being the one to get invited?
    Doing a 180, I beam, grab his arm and utter the eternal word: "yalla!"


    شنو
    shinu What
    عندك
    :ind-ik Do you have (>m)
    عندچ :ind-ich Do you have (>f)
    الي معروض illi ma:aruuD The one displayed
    معاردض m:aariD Galleries
    يا الله yalla Let’s go
     ما رحتي maa riHtay you (>f) didn’t go
    معرض الكتاب ma:raD al-kitaab the book expo
    طايفچ Taayfich it passed you (>f)
    نص nuS half
    عمرچ :umrich your (>f) life